


Even Though There's Cracks

by xandri



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Fix-It, Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M, Post-Season/Series 02, for the first chapter, the second chapter gets more than platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2016-09-15
Packaged: 2018-08-15 03:50:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8041417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xandri/pseuds/xandri
Summary: Months after Foggy and Matt walk away from each other, Foggy realises he is Not Over It.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is not in any way how I think the show will go, but I really wanted a good excuse to write this exchange. Also, I have taken some minor liberties with the MCU here- mostly a few assumptions about HC&B, and the mention of a character I'd really love to see.
> 
> About two hundred people have written post-s2 fix-it fics (they are all good!) so I'm just adding this one I've been sitting on to the pile.

Foggy stepped off the elevator in the HC&B building, making his way to his office and hoping he wouldn't run into Jeri Hogarth. It was unlikely, as she was rarely seen on his floor unless she was coming or going- a blessing, he was starting to think. She'd offered him an office with a better view, but he'd chosen a lower floor, away from the partners, and now he was glad he had. Honestly, the only one of his colleagues he didn't try to avoid, the only one he remotely liked (besides Marci), was Jen. She transferred not long after he did, and they got to be the new kids together. She may have been the only other one there with a soul.

He made it to his office without seeing anyone familiar, and sank into his chair with a sigh of relief. He realised this was ridiculous- he convinced himself every evening that his new job was awesome, that he deserved something nice. And yet, every morning he had to muster the motivation to face the cold, ruthless shark-infested waters of the legal world he thought he'd separated himself from when he left Landman and Zack. Well, not every morning. The first couple of months were still filled with determined optimism. It had been nearly six. 

A stegosaurus side-eyed him from atop his monitor. "I know, I know," he muttered at it. "Don't give me that attitude."

His phone vibrated in his bag. He leaned over and pulled it out. The screen flashed a notification- one new text from Karen.

(He'd kept in touch with Karen, so he knew when Matt came back to her, knew he'd told her everything, knew they were a 'thing' again. He figured that if Matt was finally coming around from whatever his damage was, Foggy would be next on the list. He waited for a phone call, an apology, or at least an explanation, and maybe some attempt to work things out. 

But it never came.

"He asks about you," she'd told him over lunch one day.

"Who?" he responded dumbly, feigning ignorance.

"Matt. He misses you."

"He's doing a hell of a job showing it," he replied, perhaps a little too bitterly. 

She'd shrugged awkwardly and let it drop that day, but it wasn't the last time he heard something from her along those lines- Matt wanted to know how he was doing, how he seemed sad when she mentioned Foggy's name, how she thought they should talk.)

He looked down at his phone. _Drinks tonight?_ read the text.

It would probably turn into more of the same- they started out talking about themselves, about work, and it always came back to Matt.

He dragged a hand over his face.

_Sure_ , he replied. 

He did want to talk to Matt. He had questions, mostly one big one, and Karen was a large part of it- and she was the one urging him to consider asking them. He hated that she thought the growing rift between them could be bridged so easily, as if his stubbornness was the only thing keeping them apart, as if it was somehow _his_ fault-

"If he misses me so much, why hasn't he called me? Have you asked him?!" he finally blew up at her that night over beers. He shook his head apologetically, immediately regretting it. He knew she didn't really believe that. "No, I'm sorry. It's not your responsibility to mend our relationship."

She sat back on her stool, staring down at her drink with her lips pressed together. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"No," he said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. "No, it's not your fault."

She nodded, her gaze still cast downwards at the counter. She was silent for a long moment, and he felt even worse for taking his anger out on her, but when she spoke, her voice was quiet but steady. "Look, I don't know what happened between you two, he hasn't told me anything about that. I can't make you forgive him, or- or be his friend again, but I can tell you that I think you should give him a chance." 

Foggy sighed deeply, rubbing his face in frustration. "Karen, I don't think you understand," he said, sliding off his barstool. He faced her, fishing his wallet out of his pocket. "I don't think he wants one." 

He tossed his cash on the bar before walking out.

*

He slept on it. And slept on it, and slept on it. 

Because the truth was that he hadn't really moved on- not emotionally, or mentally. Just professionally. Financially.

The truth was that he was almost ashamed by how over it he _wasn't_. 

It wasn't just about forgiving Matt for keeping secrets. And he had forgiven him- after what he'd seen, the struggles his new clients faced, it changed him. Jessica was still fighting to keep her secret, and for damn good reason, now that he knew about it. No, keeping secrets he could forgive- to a point. It was the part where Matt had just given up on the not-secret part of his life that left Foggy confused and angry. 

He wasn't sure how hung up on it was normal.

They'd spent years orbiting one another, he and Matt, and it felt like the absence of one threw off the gravity of the other. At least, that's how it felt to Foggy, forming a routine, a life that didn't include Matt, like there was nothing to ground him. He wondered if Matt felt the same way, if he even noticed Foggy's absence anymore. According to Karen, he did, but how much of that was polite chatter and Karen reading too much into it?

He was unhappy with his job and unhappy without Matt. So he did something about it. 

Nearly a week after his conversation with Karen, he found himself waiting for an answer as the line rang, phone shaking in his hand as he tapped his heel anxiously against the floor. The sound echoed through his quiet apartment. He wasn't sure what he'd do if he didn't get an answer. Leave a message, obviously, but what if he never got a return call? How long would he wait before trying again- or giving up? At least he'd have something to tell Karen, he assured himself. 

His heart still raced with adrenaline from when he'd walked out of HC&B for good earlier that day, head high, carrying a box in which he'd hastily thrown some files and all his dinosaurs and willing himself not to look back. He'd find out soon enough just how much of a collossal mistake he might have made. 

He balled his free hand into a fist, nearly knocking over the box on the back of his couch as a voice broke through the endless ringing.

"Hey," Matt's said, sounding almost normal, like he hadn't probably hesitated before taking the call.

"Hey, Matt- Uh, how's it going?" he asked awkwardly in order not to blurt out the obvious. This was possibly even worse than when they'd first met- and what a way to stick his foot in his mouth back then.

"It's... going," Matt said, and he sounded tired, strained. "How are things with you?"

Like that was a simple question to answer. Like this was some casual catch-up. Like things were normal. _I miss you but I'm still kinda angry and I just quit my job so I really want you to just tell me why-_

So he dodged the question entirely. "We need to talk. It doesn't have to be at your place, but it definitely shouldn't be in public." He didn't know if Matt would come to his place if he asked.

"Here... here's fine."

"Okay," Foggy replied, and his relief cracked his voice with a high note of optimism. Now for the hard part. 

Nervous perspiration mixed with the sweat from the heat, soaking through his shirt as he walked to Matt's apartment. It was strange, making his way to the familiar top floor, knocking on Matt's door for the first time in months.

He'd expected Matt to be covered in cuts and bruises like he'd become accustomed to, as if he'd been out on the streets and rooftops the night before. He might have been. But when Foggy got there, he looked... as normal as possible, if a little gaunt. Matt had thrown on jeans and a sweatshirt, but he was still barefoot, and he walked slower than usual, like he was tired.

"I suppose you want some answers," Matt said quietly as he trudged back into the living room, crawling into an armchair and drawing his knees to his chest.

"Yeah. I think I kinda deserve them." 

Matt took a deep breath and shrugged openly. "Ask away." 

A million questions passed through his mind, and even though he'd thought long enough about all the things he wanted to say, he still wasn't sure where to start. He was hoping maybe Matt would take the lead, that once Foggy got there it would all just pour out of his mouth, but Matt didn't volunteer anything. 

Foggy sat heavily on the couch, suddenly exhausted.

"Do you remember when we first met, and how we both wanted to help people? How we knew that the justice system was full of... of sharks and snakes and _injustice_ , and we were determined to make it better? To not be corrupted, to not let the corrupt get away with it?

"You convinced me to leave Landman and Zack because I believed you were that good. That if anyone else in our world understood that, embodied that, it was you." It wasn't a question, but it was a start.

Matt was silent for a moment. "But now, you don't believe it anymore." He was somber, resolved to take whatever judgement might be hurled his way, and _of course_ he would make this about him. He thought Foggy was here to hurl anger at him, and he'd welcomed him in to _accept it_. 

"No, now I have trouble sleeping at night. Now, I wonder what I'm seeing when I look in the mirror. Because I feel like I'm becoming one of them." Foggy shook his head. "Jeri does some good things, but for all the wrong reasons. It's been so long since I've had to work with someone so unapologetically heartless. It kinda makes my skin crawl."

Matt smirked fondly, like he thought that was some kind of exaggeration. "The people she's helping- they need it. We didn't have that kind of sway."

"Okay, but what about the people we were helping? Where do they turn now?"

Matt's mouth opened and closed, as if he didn't have a response for that. 

Foggy went on. "You know, the Devil can help when it comes to violence, but what about the people who just need a really good lawyer?"

"Are you planning to go solo?"

"Maybe? I don't know." That depends on you, he didn't say. "It worked when it was with you, and then I found out you've long since given up on the legal justice we spent so long and so hard studying and working to uphold and gone out to take it into your own hands. Even you don't believe in it anymore."

"That's not true," Matt argued softly. "I do believe. But sometimes, I can do more this way."

"Oh, like Elektra did with our medical examiner?" It was bitter and cheap, but he snapped it out before he could even think about it.

"That-" Matt frowned. He paused for a moment. "What she did was reckless. I wouldn't have done it, ever, and I wouldn't have allowed her if I'd known. I never even told her anything about the case. But... she meant well." He sounded like he really believed it. 

"You know, I thought it was a good thing we split. That way, she won't sabotage any of my cases anymore." Foggy had been going for humour, since it was hard to bring up in the first place without his voice cracking, but it sounded a lot darker than he'd intended.

Matt fell completely silent again, longer this time, shifting uncomfortably. There was something he wasn't telling Foggy, and Foggy could tell. "Dammit, Matt!"

"Elektra is dead," he said, and his voice echoed the sentiment. 

Jesus. That did change things, even if only a little, and now Foggy felt like an asshole. 

"Shit. I'm sorry." 

Matt sighed and gave a sad shrug. "You didn't know."

"How?" Foggy asked before he could even stop himself. 

"You remember the fight, the one on the rooftop? Just after we split?" Foggy hadn't told Matt he was there, but he'd known, _of course_ he'd known. 

_Maybe Karen told him,_ Foggy reassured himself. "Yeah. There were, like, ninjas or something, right?" 

"Yeah. Yeah, they killed her." His voice was hollow, like he'd been suddenly carved out. 

"Because of... the Devil?" Foggy asked quietly. 

"No. No, she was like me." 

Foggy remembered what he'd said when they'd argued- _"she's dangerous"_ \- but he'd figured Matt meant it with regards to their case. "Like you?" 

"She was trained by Stick. He found her as a kid, just like me. He _planted_ her in my life to test me." His tone took on a bitter quality as he nearly spat the last sentence out. 

"But she went to school with us," Foggy argued, confusion knitting his brow. 

"Because of him. He wanted me to leave school and turn to fight with them. The ninjas belong to an organization called the Hand. Stick has been trying to raise some kind of army against them." 

"You... you never mentioned that before. I mean, even when you were telling me about Stick-" 

"I didn't know. Not until she came back, not until... the case we were working on." Matt sighed, and this time, he sounded exhausted. "There was... a lot going on. I'm sorry." 

An unexpected anger slowly coiled in Foggy's belly as the pieces began to fit into place. Anger at the woman who broke Matt's heart over a lie, anger at the man who manipulated Matt into it in the first place, anger that they'd managed to drag Matt back into their web. He'd known there was some story behind Matt's bullshit, but he hadn't expected he'd be quite so sympathetic after hearing it. "Tell me that after Elektra died you told him to go fuck himself." 

Matt winced. "He's still around. We've been investigating the Hand."

"That your full-time job now?"

"I didn't really have much of a choice." Foggy supposed he wasn't wrong, if Stick kept finding his way into the life Matt had chosen. He _had_ chosen it, Foggy had to believe that. Stick left and Matt chose to go to law school, Elektra broke up with him and he chose to stay. He chose to become a lawyer and convince Foggy that they could be their own firm and make their own rules and not be like all the sharks they despised. 

"You know, I'm one of them. One of those snakes, those sharks you were talking about," Matt continued. 

Foggy bit back an exasperated groan. He hadn't come to feed Matt's ongoing guilt trip. "You're not corrupt. You're like the opposite of corruptible." For all he may have disagreed with Matt's methods in the past, he'd never remotely thought Matt to be corrupted. 

"I'm just as bad, finding my way around the law as I see fit."

Foggy rolled his eyes. It wasn't the same. "Fine, you're a snake, but you're the only snake I wanna work with, and I should have listened to my gut when it was telling me not to leave you." He exhaled sharply. Saying it out loud was like ripping off a band aid.

Matt's eyebrows rose in surprise. "You- you chose to leave."

"Because you told me to!"

"Because Marci offered you something great."

"Great for other people, maybe, but not for me."

"You said you were glad I didn't try to convince you to stay."

"That's not what I said."

Matt balled his hands into fists, clearly struggling to contain his frustration. Good. He knew how Foggy felt. Foggy turned where he sat, watching as Matt stood and walked to the kitchen to fetch himself a glass of water. He paused at the sink after filling the glass halfway and taking a sip, leaning over the counter in a troubled silence. Several emotions passed over his face before he spoke, brief glimpses of conflict and anguish, before returning to passive composure. When he did speak, though, his voice came out rough and strained and softer than Foggy had expected. 

"I was trying to protect you."

Foggy gaped. "Are you kidding me?!" Matt's face told him he wasn't. _That is such bullshit,_ Foggy thought, but Christ, it was hard to kick Matt while he was down, to turn the knife when he already looked like he was about to cry, so he bit that particular wording back. "I've already been shot!"

"I know, and I hope it never happens again." Matt's voice was even again, and he straightened his shoulders just the slightest. 

"It wasn't because of _you_ , it was because of a case!"

Matt tilted his head in a kind of sideways nod. "I know. Still, I'd rather you be happy without me than hurt because of me."

"Don't I get a say in that?" Foggy wasn't scared- well, he _was_ scared, but he was way more scared of what the rest of his life was gonna be like without Matt than he was of any of those things. He should know, because he'd already been estranged from Matt for months now, _on top of_ taking a bullet. (Foggy knew now that it wasn't Castle and honestly, that was a good thing, because it would have really strained his relationship with Karen if she sympathized with someone who'd shot him.)

"I'm _not_ happy. That's what I'm saying," Foggy ground out through his teeth. "And I'm not afraid of any ninjas or whatever you've been dealing with. You know what I'm working with? I'm already up to my elbows in weird shit. Not a whole lot surprises me anymore."

"Your new firm can do a better job of protecting you than I can." He sounded like sensible Matt again, and it was almost infuriating that he could bottle up whatever he was feeling at the moment when Foggy was brimming over with a mixture of rage and despair and some desperate hope he was doubting how to pursue. 

"You know, before all this, before you started pushing me away- I was just beginning to believe that no one could protect me better than you." It was true. For all he'd been frustrated with Matt's double-life, worried about his safety, there was a part of him that had been... he hadn't been sure of what it was at the time, but he realised now that the word he'd been looking for was 'proud'. 

"That's... that's flattering. And I'd like to believe it, but... not this time."

"Not this time? Or not me?" When Matt's eyes narrowed in confusion, he plunged on. "You and Karen. You didn't push her out, not like me. I'm glad you finally told her, I really am, but why does she get to stay and I have to go?" Matt's mouth fell open in abject horror, his composure cracking again. Foggy knew he'd struck the right nerve. "If you don't tell me anything else, you can push me out of your life again, just answer this one question- why me and not her?"

Matt set down the glass heavily, silent for a moment. "Is that why you came?"

"Mostly. I kinda wanted to ask if you'd reconsider us, as a firm, as friends. Even if the answer is no, I still think I deserve to know why."

Matt was breathing heavily now, pensive again, as if considering whether to tell the truth. 

"Matt-"

"It's not the Hand, or Stick, or any of that." Matt pressed his lips together tightly, steeling himself before going on. "It's Fisk."

"Fisk?"

"Fisk is after you. It's only a matter of time."

"How do you even know that?"

"Because he told me."

"You talked to him?!"

"After Reyes was killed, when they took you to the hospital- I went to visit him. I had a feeling he was behind it somehow."

"And?" 

"And I'm still convinced he organized Castle's escape."

"Okay. Maybe you're right about that," Foggy conceded. "And how is you pushing me away protecting me from Fisk?"

"He's after both of us, for putting him away. He threatened us. He threatened _you_." A darkness crept into his voice on the word, like a shadow over his countenance, taking on a dangerous quality Foggy had only glimpsed in news feeds. And then, just as quickly, it was gone, tucked away like the suit in the closet. "I tried to tell him I was behind all of it, just so he wouldn't bother with you. No offense," he added quietly, as an afterthought. 

Foggy blinked. "Wait, so all this... was because Fisk threatened me?"

"I thought... if I took him on alone when his trial comes, it would convince him you weren't involved. Maybe he wouldn't come after you."

Foggy stared at Matt for a long moment, brows furrowed. "I'll be damned if I lose you because of Fisk," he muttered finally. 

"I chose this, Foggy, I-"

"No!" He stood, cutting Matt off. "See, you played into his game. He's already won! He's made us both miserable without even lifting a finger!" He cleared the couch, taking a few steps towards the kitchen counter, almost afraid to stand closer. He wanted to shake Matt, he wanted to hug him, he wanted to swing his own fists- instead, he let his hands hang helplessly at his sides. "Why didn't you tell me? Talk to me? The Elektra thing, the Castle case... I forgive you. It shouldn't have happened like that, and it's not fair that I had to clean up after it, but this... This was about me, too. This was our life and our firm and you let Fisk tear it apart and you didn't even tell me."

Tears streamed silently down Matt's face. "Because I knew you wouldn't let him scare you. Because you should be scared, Foggy." 

"You took him down before. _We_ took him down," Foggy argued. 

"Yeah, just barely."

"Does he know? That you're-"

Matt shook his head. "No. I don't think so."

Foggy nodded silently to himself, considering. "Well, it's a risk I'm willing to take," he asserted softly. 

"I can't let you-"

"You don't get to decide that," Foggy snapped, but his voice was gentle. "Besides, it's too late. I don't think Hogarth will take me back after what I said about her moral character."

"You already quit?"

"I already quit."

"No, no, no, Foggy, you can't, you have to go back-" Matt moved around the counter, grabbing Foggy by the arms, trying to turn him around as if he could physically push Foggy back to Hogarth. "Fisk is too big, he has too much power, I can't-"

Foggy gently grabbed Matt by the wrists, twisting around in his grasp to face him. "It's too late." His voice was quiet, resolved. Now that he knew what the real problem was, he knew how they could fix it. 

Matt didn't try to pull away. If anything, he looked even more defeated, sagging in Foggy's grip. "I can't protect you from him."

Foggy smiled, and he hoped Matt could hear it, could tell by the sound of his voice. "Maybe not by yourself. I've made a lot of interesting allies in the past several months."

"... Interesting." Matt left the question out of his voice, but Foggy heard it anyway.

"You're not my only special friend anymore. Sorry to disappoint you," Foggy confirmed with pride. "And some of them are very personally grateful to me for my services." He'd almost feel sorry for Fisk if he had to face off against Matt and his new buddies.

"Special friends," Matt said, licking his lips. "Superhumans?" 

"Yeah, Matt. You're not alone anymore. We don't have to do this alone." He clasped Matt's hands in his own, because it was marginally less awkward than holding him by the wrists. "You can't protect me from everything, and I can't tell you not to do this."

"By 'this', you mean-"

"Daredevil, yeah."

"You're," he began, and stopped uncertainly. "You're okay with it."

"I meant it when I said I believe in you." Foggy let their hands fall, giving Matt some space, giving him a _choice_. "Let's go back. I mean, if you want to. I know it means that sometimes you won't be around. But this is me telling you that I want us to be _us_ again."

"You're not still mad about the Castle case?"

"I am, a little," he admitted. "But I'm not so mad at _you_."

"And Stick?"

"Kinda want to punch him in the face."

"I mean, what if I'm still working with him?"

"I can't really stop you, can I?" Foggy sighed. "I don't like the way he treats you. I'm not gonna pretend otherwise. But I respect that he's important to you. That _doing something good_ is important to you."

Matt bit his lip, trying to hold back a hopeful smile. "How do we... how do we start over again, after this? Professionally, I mean."

"The same way we did before," Foggy told him, thinking of the mountain of baked goods he was sure they'd be getting again. It had been kinda nice to have actual money for a while. "I hope you're hungry."

"You'd really give all that up... for this?"

"I told you- I already have." Foggy shrugged. "Look, if you don't do this with me, it'll just be Nelson Himself, because I definitely can't ask your girlfriend to come back and be my secretary without you."

Matt smirked timidly. "I'm pretty sure she'd say yes if you did."

"What are _you_ saying?" 

He paused for a moment, fingers twitching uncertainly. "I missed you," he mumbled quietly. 

And then Matt's face crumpled, tears brimming over again, and Foggy quickly pulled him into a hug. He latched on fiercely, murmuring apologies. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..."

Foggy let him cry it out, patting his hair gently. "Is that a yes?" he asked softly once he felt Matt's breath even out.

He could feel Matt grin. "That's a yes."

"But no more secrets." Foggy prodded Matt in the side, unfazed by the unusually long embrace. "I want to know when you have to divide yourself. I deserve to know." Matt nodded against his shoulder. "And no secrets from Karen, either."

"Got it."

"Promise me."

Matt loosened his grasp, pulling back from the embrace so Foggy could see his face. "I promise," he said, solemnly. When Foggy gave him a satisfied nod, the hesitant smile broke into a devious grin. "So, tell me about these new friends of yours..."

Foggy told Matt about Luke, and Jessica, and most especially Jennifer- "She's green, man, she's fucking _green_ and hot and she could kill me with two fingers, okay-"

-and for the first time in a long time, it felt like the air was clear.


	2. Chapter 2

The old office was back to normal in no time. The building management still hadn't found new tenants- for their office space, or any others, for that matter. With revived bank accounts, they each had no problem resuming their electric and internet accounts. 

(Foggy had wondered, briefly, where Matt's money came from if he'd been jobless for half a year, but then he remembered Elektra had been an heiress. She probably left him money in her will.

Shit. She must have really cared about Matt.)

But money aside, they really owed their smooth transition back into business to Karen. She was still working for the paper, but she told them it was part time. 

"This is where I want to be," she'd said. 

"Even if we're broke in three months?" Foggy asked incredulously.

"Okay, I'll be honest. I missed all the pie." She laughed then, and her warm smile- more genuine than it had felt since they'd locked the doors- felt like everything this place had become, everything he had missed about it. It felt like home. 

Things were a lot easier this time around, now that Karen knew. No more lies about why Matt looked like shit, no more careful treading around the truth, no trying desperately to keep this enormous secret from spilling from his throat.

Three months later, they weren't quite broke yet, but they'd had to install a full-size fridge to accomodate all the food they'd received. (It was a hand-me-down; Brett was replacing his in favor of a bigger one, and Foggy seized the oppportunity.)

Fortunately, though, a case had landed in their lap that promised an actual paycheck. There was no disputing the evidence, but there was no actual precedent for it in the state of New York, and it looked more and more like it was going to trial. Foggy and Matt had made extensive notes (with a couple of really good contributions from Karen), but today they were supposed to be writing their statements.

So of course, Foggy was running late. Not actual running, but there had been a medical emergency blocking part of the metro, and though he was patient and understanding about it, he was very aware of how much time he'd lost by the time he reached the office. It was nearing noon.

Karen looked up from her laptop screen when he entered, greeting him cheerfully, followed by a confused, "Where's Matt?"

"He's not here?"

"I thought he was coming in with you."

"I haven't seen him since he left yesterday." Foggy was already pulling out his phone.

It was probably nothing. Matt had kept his promise, not keeping secrets from them. If he showed up with a face half purple and a busted lip, he'd tell them exactly why (with some details glossed over, Foggy was sure). He'd call if he was going to be late, or (and it hadn't happened yet, but he _promised-_ ) if he was so bad off he couldn't come in at all.

Matt's phone rang until it went to voicemail. Foggy kept his message light, civil- "Hey, Matt, just wondering where you are," -while Karen rummaged for her phone in her purse. He waited while she called. 

"Voicemail," she told him, shaking her head. 

"You don't think he's...?" He let the question hang.

She shook her head. "He said he'd be here. In fact, that's what he told me yesterday before I left. He was listing everything he wanted to go over." 

Foggy tamped his foot anxiously for a minute. "Dammit," he muttered, giving in and turning back to the door. 

Foggy's imagination quickly supplied several different scenarios, none of them good. He could have been shot, he could be unconscious in an alley, he could have skipped town with Stick to find the Hand-

He would have called. He would have told them if he had to leave. He wouldn't abandon them in the middle of a case. Again. 

Right?

"Don't do this to me, Matt," he complained as he rushed into Matt's building.

He had a spare key, so he let himself in after his knocks were met with silence. He also didn't get a response when he called Matt's name. When he entered the living room, he found Matt in his sweatpants and a t-shirt sitting on the couch, face blank as if lost in thought. 

Foggy's body flooded with a mixture of irritation and relief. Matt looked fine, but he had to have heard Foggy enter, he must have assumed he'd let himself in. "Hey, sorry, you didn't answer your phone and I was worried you might have been hurt if you were... out, last night." 

Matt didn't respond. In fact, he didn't acknowledge Foggy at all, save for a curious twitch of his head in Foggy's direction. 

"Matt?" Still no response, and Foggy suddenly felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Matt!" Matt sniffed the air delicately, but said nothing. _Shit._

Foggy rushed towards the couch, his heart beginning to race, dropping his bag on the floor at his feet. When he sat down next to Matt, Matt finally turned towards him. 

"Fuh-Foggy?" he asked in surprise, a note of uncertainty in his voice. 

"Yeah, man. You okay?"

Matt didn't answer the question immediately, but he reached a hand out to feel Foggy's arm. "I can't hear."

"What?! What do you mean, you can't hear?" Foggy exclaimed, before he realised the futility of it. 

Matt shook his head, letting his hand fall back to the couch. "I know you're saying something, but- I can't hear anything."

Foggy tried to calm his screaming nerves. Why couldn't Matt hear? He didn't appear injured, from what Foggy could see, but how was he gonna find out? It wasn't like he could just ask. He took a deep breath, and tapped lightly on Matt's wrist, his way of asking permission for contact.

Matt nodded. "Go ahead." 

He'd definitely done his reading on Helen Keller, though it had been a long time ago, so he clung to that thought as an anchor while desperately hoping Matt had learned the same rudimentary sign language as a child. He opened Matt's hand and drew a cross into it with two fingers. 

"You think this is about God?" Matt asked incredulously. 

"Ugh!" Exasperated, Foggy forcefully drew an H into Matt's upturned palm. "Do you need a hospital?!" He shouted, as if that would help. 

Matt's mouth fell open in understanding. "H-hospital?"

Foggy pressed a fist into Matt's hand, wrapping his fingers around it and 'nodding' yes.

"No. No hospital, I'm fine. It'll pass; it always does."

"Always? How many times has this happened?!" Foggy complained, more for his own benefit. Any other questions Foggy had died on his lips at the realisation that they would have to wait. He threw up his hands and settled back on the couch, letting one knee rest against Matt's, just barely touching so he'd know Foggy was still there in case he needed anything. He did have the thought that he should at least text Karen and let her know Matt was okay, so he leaned over and grabbed his phone from his bag. 

_Matt's not dead_

_Thank god. Is he ok?_

_He's kinda out of it, but he says he'll be fine. Unless I murder him for worrying us._

_Is it the d?_

Foggy snorted back a laugh at her choice of codewords. 

_Idk honestly_

He wasn't sure how much time passed (about thirty minutes, he discovered when he checked the timestamp on his text to Karen, but it felt longer) when the soft music he was playing on his phone was interrupted by Matt's gravelly voice. 

"Thank you." Foggy patted his hand in response, but Matt shook his head. "I'm can mostly hear again."

"Oh, good. I'm glad I wasn't singing." He turned off the music and tucked his phone into his bag. "Listen, I'm sure you'd rather it was Karen who found you, but I did text her and let her know you're not dead." 'Not dead' being inequivalent to 'all right', which was a state Matt was rarely in these days.

"It's fine," Matt said. "Honestly, I trust you both. Besides, she uhm... she kinda broke up with me a while ago."

"Oh." Another thing they hadn't told him. Not like it was really his business, only it kinda was, seeing that he still worked with both of them and was also, presumably, still their friend. Then again, they hadn't told him when they got together, either. He brushed that can of emotional worms aside. "Sorry, man," he muttered quietly, though, because he wasn't a complete dick. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, we're fine, we're still friends, it just..." Matt trailed off, sadness tugging at his eyes for a moment. 

"It's not the suit, right? Dude, she seemed totally cool with it- you know, outside of it being a secret for so long. She seemed to handle it pretty well."

"Yeah, no, it wasn't- it wasn't that." He grew quiet again. 

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"Not really. Besides, it's not my business to tell."

"Okay," Foggy nodded acceptance. "Now, are you going to explain this?" He gestured to Matt's head without narration. 

Matt smirked sheepishly. "I don't suppose there's any way out of it."

"Not once you admitted it's not the first time, no. Spill."

Matt pressed his lips together apprehensively. He sighed resolutely before speaking. "Remember when I was shot in the head?"

"I try not to, but yes."

"Ever since then I've had these... episodes. It's starts out with everything getting louder and louder, and then... silence. Absolute silence. Most people, even when it's quiet or their ears won't pop, they can still hear their blood rushing through their skull, like background noise. This is just nothing. Total deafness." 

"And you didn't think it was worth mentioning? Or, I dunno, seeing a doctor about?" Foggy tried to keep the returning panic out of his voice. 

"And how would I explain it to them?" 

"I don't know, tell them someone hit you in the head with something." Tension began to knot between his shoulders. He rolled his neck and pinched the bridge of his nose as frustration dissolved into resignation. "Were you ever going to tell me about this? I thought we weren't keeping secrets anymore. At least, not our own secrets."

"I always keep hoping it'll go away. They get farther and farther apart, so I think it's getting better, until one catches me off-guard." Matt frowned. "I'm sorry, I... honestly, this is the first time it's happened since we got back together, and I thought it was better. I promise I wasn't keeping it from you on purpose."

"If I find a doctor... you don't have to tell them what really happened, just-"

"What do you think they'll say when they see me? How will I explain the scars?"

"Okay, okay, point taken." Foggy ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. He wasn't going to give up on the doctor thing, and his mind scrolled through a list of connections he could look into... He just had to find someone they could trust, and fortunately for him, that network was growing. "Have you eaten?" 

"Not since last night." Matt gestured to his head. "Once this started, I didn't really trust myself in the kitchen." 

"Understood. Okay, I'm getting us lunch, and you are going to eat and take the rest of the day off." 

"But we need to go over the-" 

" _Matt._ " Foggy rolled his eyes. "Humour me, okay? We can go over everything from here, if it'll make you feel better." 

"You brought the paperwork?" 

Foggy lifted his bag from the floor. "Got it right here. Now, Chinese okay?" 

* 

An hour later found them most of the way through their entrees and taking a break from their trial prep. Foggy finished off the last of his lo mein, setting the empty container on the table and leaning back on the couch.

"Okay, so, temporary hearing loss. Anything else you haven't told me that I should probably know about? You still haven't killed anyone yet, have you? I'm not saying it's a deal-breaker, I just... might need to know."

Matt fidgeted with his fork for a moment. When the answer wasn't forthcoming, a knot twisted in Foggy's gut. Maybe Matt wanted to hide his brutality from Foggy, as if he could avoid judgement as long as Foggy didn't know the full story. Foggy wasn't sure how he'd react if the answer was 'yes'. 

When Matt finally spoke, it wasn't what Foggy expected. "I never told you why Elektra and I broke up. Back in college, I mean."

"I thought she dumped you. You were practically inconsolable." 

Matt laughed bitterly. "She... she didn't dump me. Not quite." 

Foggy sucked in a soft breath in realisation. "Did she- she didn't hurt you, did she?" By all means, Matt was more than physically capable of defending himself, but what if he was being abused by someone he cared about? Would he stand up for himself then? With growing horror, Foggy suddenly imagined Matt, with his massive guilt complex, convincing himself he deserved it-

"No! No, it wasn't like that," Matt assured him. He fell quiet for a moment, pensive, before elaborating. "She found the man who murdered my father, and she- she brought him to me, like... like a cat with a mouse. She wanted me to kill him. It was a test, Stick had more or less put her up to it, but I didn't know that at the time. I... I couldn't do it." He sighed heavily, almost comically, his shoulders heaving with his breath like a weight had been lifted. "I hope that answers your question."

Foggy was silent a long moment, biting back his anger at Elektra and Stick. Mostly Stick, at this point, but it was hard to let go of the memory of Matt being emotionally wrecked by Elektra in college. It hurt even worse, knowing the truth. "See? I knew you were incorruptible." He'd tried to be light-hearted, but his voice was soft and somber. On a more sympathetic note, he added, "I'm sorry, buddy."

Matt bit his lip, toying uncomfortably with his fork again. "What if... what if a part of me wanted to do it?"

Foggy took a deep breath. "I can't really blame you for that, either. But you didn't do it. And I'm guessing it's not the only time you came that close."

Matt smirked. "I threw the man who killed Elektra off a roof. In my defense, though, I'm pretty sure he's immortal. Definitely superhuman, at the very least." Matt gestured at his chest. "He's the one who..."

Foggy nodded in understanding, grateful for the open honesty, adding the pieces to the larger picture in his head. "I can deal with that," he conceded, after a moment.

Matt had fallen silent again, probably thinking about Elektra. "Look on the bright side," Foggy told him after a moment. "At least you've just got one terrible, excessively tragic break-up in your history of ex-girlfriends." Karen and Claire (he wasn't even sure if Claire counted, but he was including her anyways) were both still on good terms with Matt, and no other exes had come back to haunt Matt that Foggy knew of. 

More fork twirling. "And boyfriends." Matt said it evenly, calmly. "Though I guess that's something else to add to the list." The fork stilled as he grew quiet again, and he suddenly seemed very vulnerable. Foggy realised he was waiting for a response. 

"Oh." It took Foggy a moment to digest. "That you're... bisexual?"

Matt ducked his head briefly, sheepishly. "Thanks for not automatically labeling it one way or another."

Foggy licked his lips. "Well, I should know the difference, because I am, too." Foggy said it casually, as if his heart wasn't hammering in his chest, and he knew Matt could hear it.

Matt was silent for a long moment. "That's fair. Although in my case, I think the term is 'pansexual,' but that's... semantics." He shrugged.

"So this isn't a recent discovery?" Foggy asked.

"Uh, no. Not really," and there was the guilt again, plastered all over his face. "You?"

"Nope." And this time, Foggy was proud, because for once, the tables had turned- or at least, they were level on both sides? Either way, he felt like he had some kind of upper hand. "Glad to see dishonesty's been working out for us all along."

"You're still mad at me, aren't you?"

"A little bit, yeah," he replied, but his tone was playful.

"I-" Matt gaped. "I didn't think it was relevant. You weren't the only one who hooked up at Landman and Zack. I just... didn't keep in touch with any of mine. It's not like I was trying to hide it from you, it just... never became important enough to mention. Besides, you kept it a secret, too."

"It's fine, I understand. It's not easy for everyone," Foggy tried to assure him gently. He imagined teenage 'no family except nuns' Matt struggling to come to terms with it, his lingering discomfort probably the reason he kept it a secret from his newfound best friend. Foggy tried not to take it personally, especially when he had so little room to judge. "But it's not the same as long-term injuries sustained from a gunshot wound to the head." 

"Okay, I get it," Matt laughed. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"Because I had a crush on you! Duh."

Matt's eyebrows shot upward. "You-you did?"

"You didn't know? Even with the heartbeat thing?" 

"It only- it was just when we met, and I figured it was because you were nervous about living with a blind person. You never seemed uncomfortable with me after that."

"Because I _wasn't_." It was true, and even as he said it, he felt his heart rate slow to a relaxed, steady rhythm.

"I thought you only wanted me to help you pick up girls."

"Dude, you still believe that? You are an idiot. A very attractive idiot."

"I can't tell if you're flirting with me, or making fun of me." Matt blinked uncertainly, but his lips twitched upwards into a smile.

Foggy shook his head regretfully. "Beauty _and_ brawns; still no brains."

"So that's a yes to flirting," Matt said, ducking his head again. "And here I thought the crush was past tense."

Foggy shrugged. "Well, yeah, because I've known you for ages now. Anything I feel for you at this point doesn't fit in the category of 'crush', if it fits in a category at all."

Matt paused for a moment. "Glad we're on the same page about that."

Foggy snorted. "You've never had a crush on me."

"Not in the same way, no. But there's been plenty of times that if you had- if you had acted on it, I would have reciprocated." He went on, quietly, "I think for a long time, we could have easily turned it into something else."

"Are you serious?" Foggy's pulse spiked rapidly. "Are you saying if I'd made a move back in college..."

"Not in college, no. We were... It was too fragile back then."

"Fragile? Like us, together?" Foggy raised an eyebrow, sinking back against the couch. "I thought we were a pretty strong team, even back then."

"No, we were, that's not what I meant." Matt pursed his lips thoughtfully, as if searching for the right words. "I couldn't risk losing you. You were my only friend, my only _real_ friend, and even after Elektra... you picked me right back up. I couldn't have risked ruining everything."

"Oh, but then you made other friends," Foggy teased, his voice lacking any actual sharpness. "Like at Landman and Zack."

Matt smiled softly. "Yeah, the kind that barely lasted. The kind that didn't matter like you did."

"You have other friends that matter now," Foggy pointed out. 

"And I've been romantically involved with all of them," Matt quipped derisively with a self-deprecating smile. "I don't seem to have a very good track record."

"What about now?" Foggy wasn't even sure why he asked; he'd blurted it out without thinking. His heartbeat must have sounded like a sudden panicked staccato to Matt. "Have I wasted all my opportunities?"

Matt's eyebrows rose. "You don't think I'm gonna screw it up? Our friendship has been through so much already."

"Exactly, and we're still here."

"Most of it was my fault."

"Yes, it was."

Matt smiled at Foggy's quick assertion, mirth tucking the corners of his eyes, but there was a sad regret to it, too. It was a smile Foggy had seen plenty before, and it was both endearing and aggravating and usually made Foggy want to wrap him in a hug. 

Foggy wasn't sure what adding 'something more' to their friendship would actually be like, but... he still wanted to find out. He'd had 'friends with benefits' before. He'd dated and loved and had sex without being _in_ love at the same time. This was something different. This was... he'd already imagined spending the rest of his life with Matt, committed to it, and even after it had all turned to shit, here they were again.

Didn't mean it couldn't still turn to shit. Worse shit? The worst shit would be a dead Daredevil, and that could happen no matter what. 

Foggy took a deep breath. "I'm saying that IF it were to happen... I don't think it'd ruin things for us. I mean, you and Karen are still friends, right?"

"Yeah. Yeah, we are." Matt slowly leaned forward and placed his food on the table, propping a hand on the back of the couch so he could turn towards Foggy. "Do you-" But then he cut himself off, shaking his head and exhaling sharply through his nose. "Nevermind."

"What?" When Matt failed to answer, Foggy fixed him with a mock glare. "I'm giving you a Look."

"I kinda guessed you were," Matt shifted awkwardly, his chin to his chest. "I'm sorry. It's not fair to you." 

"Which part isn't fair to me? If you're not interested anymore, just tell me. I can take it." It'd probably be a hard blow, but he really would prefer honesty than being kept in some kind of emotional limbo. 

Matt hadn't realised it might sound like that, if the way his eyes widened when he lifted his head was any way to tell. "I am. I just don't want you to feel like it's some kind of rebound."

"Is it?" Foggy queried uncertainly. "I mean, are you... over it?"

Matt winced. "I won't lie- I still care about Karen a lot. And Elektra. And Claire. I don't ever really stop caring, so I don't know that there's any 'over it' for me."

"Kinda figured that," Foggy said softly, without derision. Matt was a bleeding heart for his friends, even on the worst days. It was something Foggy'd always loved about him. Matt was rampant empathy wrapped in steely resolve, and honestly, Foggy should have seen the vigilante thing coming ages before the fact.

"But you- I've felt this way for a long time, and what I feel right now has nothing to do with Karen or breaking up." Matt licked his lips pensively. "If you don't believe me, you can check my pulse."

Brows furrowed, Foggy reached over hesitantly, pressing the pads of two fingers into the inside of Matt's left wrist. He could feel the pulse there, like a tiny drumbeat.

Matt gently grasped Foggy's hand, pulling it towards his throat. "It's better here," he said, tucking Foggy's fingers under his jaw. His skin was hot to the touch, his pulse a rapid throbbing below the surface. 

Wasn't a fast heartbeat a sign he was lying? Foggy wondered to himself worriedly. But wouldn't it also beat faster if he was excited? Foggy's own pulse had already accelerated to match. "I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to be feeling for," he admitted. "And are you flirting with me?"

"I'm _trying_." Matt grinned, letting out a soft chuckle.

The heat that rose to Foggy's face matched that beneath his fingers. He let his hand fall back to the couch reluctantly. "Maybe you should think about it for a bit," he said, honestly, hating himself a little for it. "Give it a week or so."

Matt tilted his head inquisitively. "What if I miss _my_ opportunity? What if Jen gets to you first?"

"Pretty sure she's way more interested in Luke now. Can't say that I blame her." 

"Well, I don't know Luke, but I think she's missing out."

Foggy tried to shrug casually. "It's cool; I can wait. I'm used to sitting on these feelings. And wow, did that sound pathetic."

Matt blinked at him blankly. "More pathetic than being afraid to make the first move?"

Foggy cringed. " _Ouch._ Way to twist the knife."

"I was talking about myself."

_Oh._ He looked over, watching Matt's throat move as he swallowed, his gaze drifting downward. Matt leaned towards him slowly, raising a hand to Foggy's face, fingers cupping his jaw.

He probably should have stopped him. Probably.

But then Matt was kissing him, soft and featherlight at first, and then firmly once he'd comfortably established where Foggy's lips were.

It was probably, most likely, a bad idea, Foggy thought, but he leaned into the touch, kissing him back. Foggy's heartbeat was racing now. He reached out with the arm opposite Matt to support himself as he shifted closer, his hand landing on Matt's knee as their lips parted, foreheads pressed together. "Are you serious right now?" he asked sincerely, his voice a hushed breath against Matt's lips. 

Matt nodded, nose brushing against Foggy's. "Are you?"

Giddy laughter bubbled up from Foggy's chest. "I am _so_ serious," he said, not sounding serious at all but meaning every word of it. He chuckled as Matt's smile crashed against his. 

Matt tasted like Szechuan chicken, and he kissed like nothing else mattered in the world. Foggy's eyes fluttered shut as the hand at his jaw slid upward, fingers combing into his hair and pulling him closer as Matt's other hand found Foggy's arm. That was always their primary point of contact, always where they connected, just a hand on Foggy's arm, although this was a different kind of touch entirely. Fingers skittered up his forearm, sliding under his sleeves where they were rolled up at his elbows.

"No, wait," Foggy protested half-heartedly between kisses. "I take it back, you should think on it-" Even as he said it, he kissed Matt again, sliding his palm up Matt's thigh to tangle fingers in his shirt. Foggy could feel Matt's skin, blazing hot, through the soft, worn cotton, and he splayed his hand against Matt's side. 

"Thought you were serious." Matt nipped lightly at his bottom lip.

"I am, but-" Foggy was cut off by another kiss. "-Just give it a week."

Matt gave it all of three seconds before kissing him again.

"I mean it," Foggy tried to insist, although he wasn't helping his own argument, smirking and humming against Matt's lips. "Remember how all our problems are your fault?"

This time, Matt licked into his mouth, stroking his tongue with careful deliberation and eliciting a moan. "Fuck, Matt," Foggy gasped as they parted. 

Matt's breath came out heavy now, his voice low. "Do you want to?"

Foggy's head was spinning. One moment, Matt's tongue was in his mouth for the first time ever, the next, he was- what? Offering to ride Foggy on the couch?

The answer was _yes_ , yes he did, but not now, not like this. He floundered in shock. 

Matt quickly threw up his hands defensively. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding," he assured, extricating himself with a proud grin. "For now." He fell back onto his side of the couch. "So. A week?"

"At least." Foggy confirmed, his heartbeat still faster than normal, ignoring the heat that had begun to pool below his belt. His skin felt like it was _buzzing_. "Hands off."

Matt cast him a devious smirk. "You won't even guide me?" 

Foggy snorted. "You don't need a guide."

"I like it when you guide me."

"Flattery will not help your case."

Matt slumped back against the couch dejectedly, but the smile that curled his lips was incredibly fond. "I went to Josie's, the night after you closed our tab," he told Foggy wistfully after a moment. 

"Yeah?"

"She thought we were married. Asked me if we were getting a divorce."

"Did you tell her we weren't?"

"To which part?"

"You've been perpetuating rumours with bartenders, but you couldn't come out to _me_?!" Foggy exclaimed, but he was laughing in amusement.

"Hey, she assumed, I just... left it open-ended." Matt shrugged innocently. "Besides, you did compare our partnership to marriage."

"Yeah, like ten times, and you never took the hint!"

"I got the hint now," Matt defended.

"You did not; I still had to spell it out for you."

"You could spell it out some more," Matt suggested wryly.

"Don't touch me, Murdock," Foggy warned. "We still have work to do. We have a trial coming up."

Matt nodded in understanding. He rose and resettled himself closer to the middle of the couch, perilously close to Foggy.

"You're making me nervous." 

"I'm not touching you," Matt pointed out defensively. "Now, about the Billingsley case..."

Oh, no. Matt was going to be like that.

It was going to be a long week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to mayqueen517, my cheersquad.
> 
> Also, Matt is a troll.
> 
> I've been poking at a continuation of this, so there may be more in the future.


End file.
